Green bamboo leads into a secret path; emerald vines brush against the traveler's clothes.
Sunset.
The path ahead was gradually becoming overgrown with weeds, and withered leaves blanketed the ground. Yet, faint ruts from carriage wheels were still visible, indicating that not long ago, there had been frequent traffic here, often carrying heavy loads.
Following the direction pointed out by the old man, the four of them converged their auras to avoid alerting any potential quarry, flying low alongside the bamboo forest.
They reached a clearing at the end of the path.
The surrounding bamboo forest was sparse, with many shoots but few giant stalks. A cluster of buildings stood there, easily identifiable at a glance as a papermaking workshop.
The trio landed silently. Bamboo baskets and woven items were scattered near the workshop entrance. The main gates were tightly shut, plastered with yellowed and partially torn Yecheng government seals.
The wooden doors were mottled.
The plaque hung askew.
As the evening breeze swept through, bamboo leaves swirled in the air. The wind whistled as it passed through the gaps, causing the plaque to sway with a series of creaks and groans, clattering against the wall.
A chill ran down their spines; the atmosphere was inexplicably eerie.
Nangong Ning said in a low voice, "Yunxuan Garden. This is it."
Ruan Zhong’s nascent soul divine sense swept over the entire estate. His eyes glinted with a sharp sword radiance as he noted, "No signs of living presence."
Song Qingshu added, "Let’s go inside and look."
"Alright."
Nangong Ning didn't forget to remind him, "Little Grand-Uncle, stay close to me."
Xu Xian agreed without a second thought.
"Okay."
They leaped over the several-meter-high wall. For cultivators, there was no need to use the front door.
Inside the courtyard was a mess, clearly abandoned for a long time.
"Split up and search."
Song Qingshu went left, and Ruan Zhong headed toward the back, disappearing in a flash of afterimages. Xu Xian followed Nangong Ning into the main courtyard. As the sky darkened, the occasional hooting of owls from the bamboo forest added to the desolation of the garden.
Perhaps it was psychological, but Xu Xian felt something was off.
After a full circuit, they found broken doors, fallen tiles, semi-finished paper, bamboo rotting in lime pits, and stagnant, sour water. They found nothing useful—no clues at all.
Xu Xian surveyed the surroundings from time to time before saying cautiously, "Xiao Ning, don't you think this place feels... unclean?"
Nangong Ning furrowed her delicate brows, waved her sword sleeve to brush away a cobweb, and said with disgust, "It is quite dirty." She paused slightly and added, "And it smells terrible."
Xu Xian was speechless. Clearly, they weren't talking about the same kind of 'unclean'.
"Little Grand-Uncle."
"Yes?"
Nangong Ning abandoned her usual dignified air, her phoenix eyes curving playfully as she teased, "You’re not afraid of ghosts, are you?"
Xu Xian replied solemnly, "How is that possible?"
Nangong Ning looked at him skeptically. "Really not afraid?"
Xu Xian shrugged and curled his lip. "Ghosts and gods, gods and ghosts—they're two sides of the same coin. I haven't seen a god, and I certainly haven't seen a ghost. There aren't that many ghosts in this world, though there are plenty of people pretending to be them."
In Fanzhou, there were humans, demons, devils, spirits, and foul entities...
And all of them could cultivate toward immortality.
As for ghosts?
In the knowledge base Xu Xian had received from the sword stele, they didn't really exist. Those so-called water ghosts or life-claiming ghosts weren't actually ghosts; they were either spirits formed from the essence of heaven and earth, or the lingering obsessions of powerful experts whose souls refused to dissipate after death.
Theoretically, they weren't ghosts.
However, if one insisted on calling them ghosts, that was fine too.
At least, that was how the common folk saw it.
Xu Xian was now a cultivator, so he had to be rigorous in his perspective.
Rather than stories of vengeful spirits, he was more inclined to believe that someone was operating in the shadows, playing tricks.
Following Xu Xian's logic, Nangong Ning asked, "So Little Grand-Uncle also thinks there's something wrong with this ghost story?"
Xu Xian shook his head and said calmly, "I don't know if the ghost story is problematic, but the people involved definitely are."
Nangong Ning slowed her pace, asking knowingly, "Oh? How so?"
Xu Xian analyzed, "While many people in Yecheng are in the papermaking business and one more or less wouldn't be noticed, look at the scale of Yunxuan Garden. There are dozens of soaking pits for bamboo alone. How could such a massive industry just shut down because of a rumored haunting, especially when it's just grasping at shadows?"
"With such a large fortune, they couldn't afford to hire a few Daoist priests for an exorcism? As the old saying goes, 'with money, one can make even a ghost turn a millstone.' Besides, don't forget, this is the Wendao Sect's territory. Catching ghosts and slaying demons has always been part of our duty, and we never charge for it. If it were you, wouldn't you take advantage of free labor?"
"Furthermore, if I remember correctly, if a local magistrate encounters something beyond the capability of mortals, they can directly burn spirit incense. Once the Intelligence Hall receives the information, they evaluate the risk based on the description and transfer it to the Mission Hall to be posted for disciples to resolve."
"The old man said this happened around the turn of the year. Months have passed, yet in the Mission Hall, among the bounty missions for Yecheng, there's absolutely no mention of this..."
Xu Xian's analysis was logical and well-reasoned.
Nangong Ning lowered her eyes and frowned occasionally, deeply agreeing with Xu Xian's train of thought. However, there was still one thing she didn't understand, so she asked curiously:
"How did Little Grand-Uncle make sure that there was no such mission in the Mission Hall?"
Xu Xian gave a sheepish laugh. "When Qingshu came to me the day before yesterday to ask if I wanted to team up, I figured since I was coming all this way, I'd see if I could do something else on the side. So, I looked through every single mission related to Yecheng in the Mission Hall. Unfortunately, none of them were convenient."
Nangong Ning was stunned for a moment, then remarked, "Little Grand-Uncle is truly proactive."
Xu Xian pouted and said lazily, "I have no choice. I'm poor."
Nangong Ning smiled but said nothing.
Never mind Xu Xian, who had just joined the sect and reached foundation establishment; even she, now at the nascent soul stage, was just as poor. By the end of every year, her hands were always empty.
People like her were everywhere in the Wendao Sect.
They called themselves the Yearly Spent Tribe.
Returning to the main topic, Nangong Ning said, "If that's truly the case, then the owner of Yunxuan Garden and even the magistrate's office of Tianzhu County are suspicious. In your opinion, Little Grand-Uncle, what should we do next?"
Xu Xian thought for a moment and said, "What else can we do? Follow the clues. If the people are the problem, investigate the people. If the events are the problem, investigate the events. In this world, everything that happens leaves a trace. For now, we can only follow these threads."
Nangong Ning smiled. "Great minds think alike; I was thinking the same thing. It seems Little Grand-Uncle has a talent for solving cases?"
Xu Xian rolled his eyes. "Don't tease me. I know exactly how much I'm worth."
Nangong Ning didn't pursue the topic further. She turned to leave, saying, "Let's go find the others and see if they've discovered anything."
Xu Xian quickly followed.
A moment later, the four of them met up.
As they looked at each other, the other two shook their heads in a silent understanding; they had also come up empty.
Ruan Zhong complained, "I checked that bamboo forest as well. There's nothing, not a single clue. Do you think we might have guessed wrong?"
Song Qingshu pondered, "It’s not impossible."
Ruan Zhong asked, "Then what? Should we use the old method and just wait for the rabbit to hit the tree?"
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